


Henrik's Lament

by Alexander_Wesker



Category: Jacksepticeye- Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: And now I feel guilt, Dark Thoughts, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jack's Ego, Poor Dr. Schneep, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicidal Thoughts, This story is really depressing and I should never write again while listening dark piano music, i'm a bad person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 06:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Wesker/pseuds/Alexander_Wesker
Summary: Maybe this one was the good one. And maybe he would never have to wake up





	Henrik's Lament

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. I don't even know why I wrote this, I should never write while listening Dark Piano music, it makes me think only depressing thing.

 

  
The neon on the ceiling blinked intermittently, as if it were still between living still or die once and for all, its faded whitish light illuminated the room that had the appearance of an surgery room, although it was not in order ... maybe it was an amateur or a sugery room for black market operations.  
There were paint flakes on the floor made of tiles painted of a dusty gray, spotted here and there from what appeared to be dry blood. The metal table and the instrumentation, however, seemed clean even if they were outdated.  
A corner of the room was hidden from the shadows and filled with shelves and cabinets full of chemicals, the white light lit like a blade, what looked like a metal chair, uncomfortable and ruined, there was someone sitting on it.  
The figure was tall, with a slim body, the chest and part of his legs hidden from a doctor's white coat and at the height of his heart was sewn on, what appeared to be his name " _Dr. H. Schneeplestein_ ", his hands covered by blood-stained surgical gloves, although the figure did not seem to matter. At his feet there was a medical cap, one that had to have covered his hair, that were short brown and messed up with an acid green tuft in no better condition.  
His blue eyes staring were open wide and staring at nothingness, the unnatural dilated pupils, and an unnatural opacity that glared his eyes. The surgeon's expression was vacuous, as his posture was almost unnaturally relaxed.  
A oxygen mask held in the left hand.

Dr. Schneeplestein made a little movement, lazily and rigidly adjusting his posture. Murmuring something between himself, but the words were mingled and unassuming. He lifted the face mask again as he leaned slightly to his left to type something on what looked like a vaporizer for anesthetic fluids and then took a deep breath, and another after that.  
Henrik felt confused, no ... it was wrong. He knew where he was, he knew what he was doing, but the rest was a plain blur, he didn't feel the weight of his body, the movement of his limbs, as if his body was no longer his.  
He took another breath of that substance, feeling for a single instant his throat shaking due to a nausea motion. How much ether had he taken this time? He didn't know, he didn't care, maybe that was the good time.  
Perhaps it was the good time he could overdone enough to fall asleep and never wake up again.  
" _What do you mean, Peter, and if I make you never wake up? If I make you going to fall asleep forever, I'll just have to give you only another dose of anestethic_ " he remembered. He still remembered the patient he had told this, remembering how Peter's body was relaxed, not even a contraction under the imperturbable blade of the scalpel. He remembered the continuous sound of the electrocardiogram, he lost him. He had tried to reanimate him, he had tried ... but he failed.  
As always...  
...  
" _It's not enough yet, I'm too lucid_ " the doctor said to himself almost not breaking the silence that surrounded him, taking another breath of that sweet ether, feeling another nausea motion shaking his body, but without having the strength in his body to react to it.  
Here ... he was so tired ... so tired.  
Henrik's blurred look turned to the table where he operated his last patient ... that died as a result of his mistakes.  
A tear, only one then followed by others slipped out of the surgeon's blue eyes wide open from ether.  
He was a failure, a complete failure ... he knew it, he accepted it.  
He took another breath, and felt his eyes shut, an intermittent sound like a beep that sounded far away, a small red light shining at the corner of his sight.  
Henrik Von Schneeplestein closed his eyes, a small smile bending his lips as he slipped into a dreamless sleep. Hoping that this was that _one good time_ and he would never have woken up.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you think I should start a series of stories about Jack's Egos?


End file.
